Precipice
by azulfanatica
Summary: Old story, new title. He had dedicated his life to fighting for good, but now he looked at the world around him and saw little good in it. They'd tried to stop him, before he left. They pleaded with him to stay, to seek reason. But it was too late.


A/N: I keep changing the title. I'll keep changing it until I get it right :)

I loved watching Adam Rodriguez play the slightly edgier, more mysterious 'Sandino' in _I Can Do Bad All By Myself_. Over eight seasons of CSI: Miami, we've seen many different sides of Eric Delko. My favorite? The bad boy…

Disclaimer: I own neither the show, nor the movie, nor the song. I just like them a lot.

* * *

He stood at the precipice. His fate sprawled before him like the city below, where life continued at its measured pace. Except for here, where time stood still and he felt nothing but the fierce wind that whipped his clothes, beat against him, and left him cold. The chill, he knew, came not from the biting wind, but from the all-consuming bitterness that had taken root in the ruins of his shattered heart.

_Somebody told me once that pain is a game we all gotta play  
Then why am I in overtime and sudden death every other day_

Eyes squinted behind aviators, sweat rolled down his tan brow, and yet he waited. For what, he knew not. Justice, perhaps, but somehow he knew justice would deny him comfort. Revenge, without question. If nothing else was certain, that was. He would leave this place with blood on his hands.

_I know that for the good of life there's a price we all gotta pay  
But I'll pay till I'm poor and I still don't know what it is to have a good day_

He had dedicated his life to fighting for good, but now he looked at the world around him and saw little good in it. His faith was shaken. His faith in the law, his faith in righteousness, faith that all things worked together for the good of those who believed.

_He _had believed. _He_ had trusted. Now, he was left broken, standing at the brink with nothing but murderous anger to keep him company. Sighing, he turned to face the incredible effigy looming over him. The sheer magnitude of the ivory figure threatened to overwhelm him, serving as a reminder of how small, how insignificant he was.

_O Cristo Redentor, _they called it. Christ the Redeemer_. _For the hundredth time since he left Miami, he prayed for that to be true.

He hated himself for his weakness and hypocrisy, for the doubt that ate away at his soul. Every last fiber of his being resented the hands that would take the innocence and joy from his life, yet stand before him spread wide, brazenly offering his only chance at the redemption he would soon so desperately need.

Eyes closed, he slowly raised one arm, then the other, to mirror the towering icon in front of him, his face raised to the heavens in supplication of understanding. The path was marked for him.

They'd tried to stop him, before he left. They pleaded with him to stay, to seek reason. _She_ implored him most of all. And she very nearly changed his mind—of all the people on this earth, he knew she was the only one who would have been able to stop him. But she didn't understand.

_Since everybody knows what it is that I need to do  
Well do me a favor, let me worry 'bout me and you worry 'bout you_

Only one person understood what he needed to do—the man he now called brother. They began this journey together, and they would finish it together. Even then, they each needed time to battle their own demons. That was where he found himself now— standing atop this peak, cursing a useless world and feeling nothing. He thought he would never feel again.

It didn't matter that he couldn't feel, because before this day was over, he would foray into darkness. The chill in his heart mattered not, because after today he could sink no further into the cold abyss. He plunged into its depths knowing full well the consequences of his decision.

_I don't need no one to put me down,  
I'm on the ground can't get no lower.  
And I don't need no one to hang around an' make me frown, just makes me look older.  
And I don't need no one to black my eye an' tell me lies  
Don't wanna cry over nobody else  
No, no, no, no, I can do bad all by myself_

He had already left his previous life behind him, at peace that he would return a changed man. He'd refused to grant entry to the pity on their faces. Their questions had ceased to bother him. The ever-present concern no longer taxed his patience. All of it was past.

He allowed himself a single indulgence: he let her drive him to the airport. She'd stood before him knowing the man she had grown to love was gone. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay, but she knew that it wouldn't be. Fearsome reality rained down on them, for they both knew this could be their final goodbye. Shared grief for missed chances and lost time hung heavy in the air.

_Somebody told me once that runnin' from the rain don't make no sense.  
I had my own dog cry for awhile now it goes wherever I'm goin'.  
Your tellin' me the grass just might be greener on the other side.  
But I don't wanna take a chance on dirt when I got grass even tho' the grass has died_

She never questioned him, she didn't ask him to stay; she knew now that he had no choice but to go. Someone else had made that choice for him at the squeeze of a trigger.

She simply held him, and he let her. Her arms told him everything her words could not: that she loved him, and that she wanted him to come home, to her. That no matter how far he strayed from himself, no matter how deep or hard he fell, she would always be there to bring him back to the light.

Standing now in the blazing sun, body bruised by the elements and soul stripped bare by the cruelty of fate, he thought maybe, just maybe, there _was_ still some light in the world. It beckoned his return. He only hoped he could return to her whole, not as this hardened shell of a man.

_Don't waste time feelin' real bad for me  
I didn't ask you for your sympathy_

A voice in the back of his head reminded him it wouldn't matter how he came back to her; she would make him whole again. He looked back to the statue above him and his resolve only deepened.

_NOOO I know God is watchin' over me  
So I guess that's where I'm supposed to be  
Ohh yes_

Footsteps approached from somewhere behind him. He clenched his jaw tightly and balled his fists; eyes narrowed and nostrils flared, and ice of resentment turned to blazing fury of determination and rage. Complete control marked his every feature as he teetered on the edge of past and present, light and dark.

_I don't need no one to put me down,  
I'm on the ground can't get no lower_

The keen cry of drawn steel cut through the air in invitation, taunting him with its sharp echo. The wind caught it and carried it away, leaving prophetic silence in its wake.

_And I don't need no one to black my eye an' tell me lies  
Don't wanna cry over nobody else_

He'd lost every last pure and right thing in his life, from the affection of a sister who was just beginning to live, to the future he'd secretly longed to share with his best friend, a woman who loved him despite his shortcomings. He'd been savagely violated; his right to live life carefree callously stolen. Never again, he thought. This was his fight.

Slowly, he turned.

_No, no, no, no, I can do bad all by myself._


End file.
